All Of Me
by RinSabreDelta
Summary: Sonia was no more than a nameless seamstress at the Opera Populaire during the time of the Phantom. And yet, other than Madame Giry, she knew more about the man behind the mask than anyone. The night of the fire, she helps her oldest friend escape, but at what cost?
1. Prologue

p class="MsoNormal"The commotion had made it only too easy to get Erik out of the catacombs. He had been hysterical, not really paying much attention as I led him through the city streets, carefully avoiding anyone who might ask too many questions. Sonia had managed to find them an inn for the night and even a ship out of the country the next day. In the early morning, she'd gathered any of her things that survived the fire and by that afternoon, they were on their way to freedom. It wasn't until the second day on board that Erik seemed to come back to himself, demanding parchment and quill from her. They arrived in America and quickly settled, using what was left of her meager savings to rent a small home. She began to work as a seamstress, and he stayed in his room, writing and keeping to himself. And so it stayed for the first month of their new lives./p 


	2. Chapter 1

Sonia sighed as she stepped inside, looking around their small home. It was modest, but far nicer than her apartment in Paris had been, and she'd done her best to make it as cozy as possible with curtains and cushions. Kicking off her boots, she immediately moved to start dinner, knowing Erik would likely be hungry. She could hear him muttering in his room, and she moved to check on him, bringing a small parcel with her. Poking her head in, she found him in his usual spot at the desk, though she was surprised to see a rather large amount of discarded parchment nearby.

"Erik?" She spoke quietly, not wanting to agitate him more than he already was. He simply grunted in reply; she hadn't expected much, but it still hurt just a bit that he never seemed to acknowledge her. "I wanted to let you know dinner will be soon." She fiddled with the parcel, debating whether to give it to him now or not. Steeling herself, she strode further into the room, setting the small package on the corner of his desk before hurrying out. She shut the door behind herself quietly and sighed, moving to finish their simple dinner. Likely, he wouldn't open it; she was simply happy to have it available to him, should he decide he wanted it. She cooked in silence, the quiet only occasionally broken by a muffled curse from Erik's room. Just as she finished he stepped out, not meeting her gaze as he took his food and headed back to his room. Sonia held back a sigh, wishing that just once he would eat at the table with her. Settling onto her couch, she ate quickly.

Erik had been trying like mad to write a new piece since coming to this new country. America made so many promises, and yet he couldn't seem to find any peace in this place they called the "land of the free." Since his loss of Christine, he had been unable to write anything. Sonia hadn't been much help, though he hardly expected her to be; she hadn't been a performer, didn't have the same powerful voice his Angel of Music had. And yet, he was immeasurably grateful to his friend. She'd made sure he'd had somewhere to go, was cared for and fed. In those first few weeks, she'd tried to coax him out of the shell he'd retreated to, to no avail. Finally, she'd given up, moving on with the course of her life. She never forgot about him, but she also didn't try to pull him out into the world.

Sonia was ready to resign herself to her usual activity of reading when a knock sounded at the door. She was pleasantly surprised to find her friend Mary at the door, and was quick to let the other woman in. Mary had been a saving grace; a friendly face in a foreign country.

"I hope you don't mind my stopping by. I wanted to bring you some fresh goods." The woman pulled the cover off her basket to reveal bread, muffins, and cookies. Sonia couldn't help but smile at her generosity.

"Thank you so much, Mary. I'm sure they'll be delicious." Sonia took the basket and set it in the kitchen, gesturing for her friend to take a seat in the small living area. As the two women settled themselves, Mary dove straight into the point of her visit.

"I've heard the most wonderful thing, dear. Johnathan Sikes has shown an interest in you." Mary grinned, though the news only made Sonia's stomach turn sour. In truth, she had held an affection for Erik for years; it was hard to think of anyone else feeling that way for her.

"What makes you believe such a thing?" Mary's smile faded a bit at Sonia's tone.

"Why, he told my brother himself." Mary's brother, Matthew, worked at the local butcher. Johnathan owned a farm not far out of town that provided quite a bit of meat to everyone. Sonia had met Johnathan a few times on her trips into market, and he'd seemed a pleasant enough fellow. "Oh dear…you don't seem quite as happy as I thought you'd be."

"I'm sorry, Mary, I suppose it just came as a shock." Sonia shook her head, looking down at her hands. "I'm not sure if I'm happy about it, to be honest." Mary's eyes widened and she got a knowing smile that made Sonia a bit nervous.

"Have you got your eye on someone then? Oh, do tell!" If anything, this news seemed to excite the woman more, and Sonia couldn't help a small smile. Her thoughts drifted to Erik, and she knew the smile hadn't quite reached her eyes.

"There's nothing to tell. He hasn't so much as spoken to me in all this time." At Mary's confused look, Sonia continued. "I'm not what he's looking for."

"What do you mean? You're quite pretty, and a talented seamstress." Sonia couldn't help but blush at the compliment, glad Erik wasn't around to see it. He'd always teased her when she flushed, pointing out the bright red against her pale skin.

"Regardless of my supposed talents, he is looking for someone else." She sighed, leaning closer to confide in her friend. "Honestly, it's been quite difficult. How could I possibly continue to care so much for him, when he seems to have no affection for me?" Her friend simply gave a shrug, leaving Sonia with no answer to her problem. They moved the conversation towards food and patterns, and too soon Mary was heading home. With her friend gone, Sonia didn't have much to do; a quick cleaning, and she was off to bed, pausing at Erik's door long enough to give her customary goodnight through the door before retiring. She was asleep almost as soon as she laid down, slipping into a confused muddle of dreams.


	3. Chapter 2

Erik had heard every word of the women's conversation, and it had left him confused. They'd only been in this country for a month; could Sonia have really found a man to catch her eye in so little time? A familiar feeling passed through his chest, though he refused to acknowledge it. She'd spoken as though it was a deep feeling she had for this mysterious man, and as he sat at his desk, he couldn't help wondering who it was. The other thing gnawing at him was what her friend, Mary, had said about a man named Johnathan. Perhaps Erik needed to find a way back into the world, if only to see these two other men in his friend's life. When he looked to his parchment, he was surprised to find he'd managed to write a few bars. After that, it seemed to pour from him, and he felt the release of music for the first time in weeks. In his rush to get it all down, he nearly missed Sonia's quiet goodnight.

The next morning, Erik stepped out of his room, looking around the home. It had changed drastically since their arrival; the colorful cushions and curtains made it seem more like the home he'd been forced to leave. He found Sonia in the kitchen, and it was clear he'd caught her by surprise. She looked at him with wide eyes, though she quickly averted her gaze and murmured a good morning. She set a muffin next to him before hurrying for the door and leaving for the day. He frowned; for the last few weeks, she hadn't seemed to want to stay in the same room as him for extended periods. As he ate the muffin, he decided then and there he would try and be nicer to his friend. Finishing quickly, he went back to his room, moving the parcel she'd brought aside to continue his writing. He finally finished that evening, just in time for Sonia to do her usual check in. Silently, she set fresh parchment next to his arm, turning to go quickly. Once dinner was ready, he stepped out, taking his bowl from her slowly.

"Thank you." Her gaze snapped to his in shock, though she was quick to cover it. He wanted to kick himself as he realized this was the first time he'd said it since she'd helped him escape. She gave a nod and turned to serve her own bowl, stepping around him carefully to sit on the couch. He glanced towards the table, setting his own bowl down before moving to take her arm. Silently, he led her to the table and pulled her chair out for her, waiting until she was seated to take his own across from her. She was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and caution.

"How are you today?" Her voice was quiet and hesitant, and he studied her for a moment. She looked a bit more withdrawn, tired, and he wondered with a pang of regret how much of that he had caused.

"Quite well, thank you." He kept his tone civil, unsure about what to say to her. She nodded and started to eat slowly. "And you?" She glanced up again.

"I'm well, thank you." She ate for a bit in silence before speaking again. "I noticed you had what looked like a new piece finished. Does it have a name?" He gave a small smile; his works had been a common subject of conversation in their past. He shook his head.

"Not as of yet. I will have to wait until I play it." She nodded once more, looking into her bowl for a few minutes. He wondered what might be going on in that head of hers, and she did not disappoint.

"Are you…better then?" Sonia seemed hesitant to ask, and he sighed. She had spent the last month likely concerned for him.

"Yes, I am. I thank you for taking care of me." His voice was stiff even to his own ears, and he hoped it came across as truly grateful. The rest of the dinner passed in silence, and too soon Erik found himself alone in his room. He found himself drawn to the parcel left by Sonia, and he began to unwrap it carefully. Inside lay an exact replica of the mask he'd lost in Paris, the white nearly glowing in the candlelight. He brushed a finger over it, touched by the gesture. He fitted in on, reveling in the familiar feel of safety it provided, before turning back to his music.

Sonia hadn't expected to hear much from Erik's room, but nothing could have compared to his voice. Hearing him sing had always given her a thrill, and this was no different. The notes were more hesitant than usual, and she knew instinctively he was feeling out the piece he'd just written. It was slow and beautiful and she wondered what could have inspired it. Having expected a harsh or angry piece after what they'd left behind, this was a pleasant and soothing surprise.

She washed the dishes slowly, thinking over the evening's events. Sonia hoped this was a step at having the old Erik back, the lovely man who had been eager to write and learn. The man who wasn't tortured by the seductive voice of a young soprano. Briefly, envy washed over her; she'd never had a particularly wonderful voice, and she knew nothing would ever compare to Miss Daae's voice. The woman had had a voice of an angel, and in truth it's what Erik had called her. His Angel of Music. It was with these thoughts that Sonia went to bed, visions of the opera house dancing behind her closed eyelids with Erik's voice floating around her.


End file.
